Changes At Bakers Street
by Lapin de la Flouve
Summary: Chapter 8 now up and I promise I'm writting until it's finished no stopping and forgetting this time! Mikael had no idea what to expect from her trip to london. please R
1. An Unusual Welcome

**A/N: **hey there peoples! Okay let's try this again. I am completly revising this fic because let's just face it, it was crap. Your shouts of Mary Sue have been heard and changes have been made to 'Changes'. The plot is still the same although there is going to be a LOT more case that before, and I mean a lot more. You might actually be able to find it this time. So read it and enjoy the new and improved (meaning it is now readable) story.

**Changes at Baker Street **

Chapter One: An Unusual Welcome

Why? Why am I doing this? Why did my dad choose now send me half way around the world to visit my aunt? Moreover, an aunt I have not seen in over ten years?

Such were the thoughts that ran through my head on a boat headed for London. Unfortunately, there was no getting out of it. I was to stay with my aunt, and the man that she works for, an entire year. As the boat made its way up to the docks, I decided to make the best of it. Heading back to my quarters, I collected my small travel bag; my other things would be brought over later once the ship was unpacked.

I made my way down the gang plank along with the other passengers, once again wondering what I was doing here. Taking in my surrounding I became overwhelmed by the crowd that seemed to be stack at this particular pier. Large crowds never bothered me in New York, in fact, I thrived in them however, the mass of people mixed with the uncertainty that comes with being on foreign soil combined together leaving me very nervous.

"Mikael?" I heard someone call. Turning around I recognized my Aunt Martha, an older version perhaps, but still much the same as I remembered her. She was a short, plump woman in her mid-thirties with her hair pulled into a tight bun and a pleasant smile on her face. A bit of the uncertainty left at the sight of a familiar face.

"Auntie Martha!" I called back cheerfully pushing my way through the crowd towards her.

We hugged and exchanged all the formalities one is required to share with a relative you had not seen in a decade, and them headed for the carriage she had hired. During the ride to her house, I informed her of all the happenings in New York since my last letter. When the hansom stopped, I looked out the window at the apartment that was to be my home for the next year. "Come dear," said my aunt, "let's get you settled in and then I'll make us some tea."

The apartment at 221B Baker Street was an older building. The ground floor consisted of my aunt's room and a smaller room that was, until my arrival, empty, a kitchen and a small parlor that also served as a library. The upstairs also had several rooms, Two of those I found later were bedrooms. One of which is occupied by my aunt's employer, one that had been recently vacated by one Dr. John Watson and a room that I later found out was some sort of small lab. For the sake of propriety, instead of moving into the larger, cozier room upstairs, I was put into the smaller room at the front of the building.

While she gathered the refreshments, I wandered around the Parlor/Library looking through the odd assortment of books; just then, a man walked in through the front door. "Mrs. Hudson, I'm home. Oh," he said spotting me for the first time, "may I be of some service?"

"No, I don't believe so." I answered shaking my head.

He raised an eyebrow in puzzlement at the five-foot-two, slim, (and I will choose to phrase it) slightly unshaply woman in front of him. While he took this time to study me, I chose to do the same with him. He was a thin man slightly over six feet, had dark brown almost black hair, and gray eyes. His eyes were what interested me most; they were like deep pools of swirling mist that showed an unfathomable amount of intelligence.

"Then what are you doing in my house?" He demanded, snapping me out of my revelry. My presence obviously confused him.

"I'm sorry. My name is Mikael Garrison." I said, offering my hand, at which he just stared.

"Mikael?" said he, "As in Mrs. Hudson's brother's lad?"

I smiled in amusement. My name often had this effect and I was more than use to the reaction that I was faced with now. Aunt Martha strode into the room with a tray. "I never said that my brother had a son, Mr. Holmes. If you had listened you would have known that." He cast another look at me, shook his head and disappeared upstairs until dinner, leaving his things at the door. Thus, my first meeting with the newspapers great detective, Sherlock Holmes.

After dinner, we were all settled in front of the fire with Mr. Holmes reading, Aunt Martha sewing, and me writing. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mr. Holmes studying me over his newspaper. He was taking the earlier incident harder then most people did. The few times he spoke to me during dinner he put a mocking emphasis on the word 'miss' that was more than called for. I chose to address him. "Do you plan on holding against me the fact that I am a girl the entire time I am here, Mr. Holmes?" I asked putting the same emphasis into Mr. as he had miss. He snorted and sank lower into his chair, concentrating on his newspaper.

Our relationship did not improve over the next week or so. His dignity was still bruised and I was not about to ask for forgiveness over my name.

When I brought his tea into the parlor some weeks later, he was bent over his desk studying something intently. As was usual he ignored my presence not even looking up at me when I cleared off a space for the tray. We had scarcely said more then a dozen words to each other so far and it wasn't from a lack of trying on my part. I watched him work from the side of the table. He gazed intently at the two small marks in front of him completely focused. I edged closer, trying to see exactly what he was studying.

Finally I got up the nerve to ask him "What are you doing?"

"Matching fingerprints." He answered without looking up.

I was confused. I did not see how a person could match up fingerprints since they were only smudges that everyone left behind, and I said as much to Holmes.

"On the contrary," he replied, "Although you are right in the fact that everyone does leave them behind they do not all leave the same print behind. Every fingerprint is unique, there are no two alike. When a criminal touches something they are in effect leaving a piece of themselves at the crime scene, giving me something to track them down with."

I was nodding as I thought over what he had said and really, it made sense to me.

"So," I interjected, "when you finally do track down the person who did it you merely have to get their fingerprint and compare it to the original print that you found to make sure it is the same person."

He looked up at me for the first time since I had entered the room. "Yes." From the look on his face, I don't think he was expecting me to understand him. He glanced down at the prints then back up at me before shaking his head.

Next he started digging through the drawers around him, "Where is that magnifying glass?" I heard him mumble.

I walked to the other end of the room to where I had seen the missing piece of equipment earlier. Picking it up, I handed it to him. He took it from me silently and bent back over his work. Since Holmes had made no protest to my watching thus far, I chose to stay in my spot next to the table. I was thoroughly intrigued by his world fingerprint analysis and the like. After five minutes, he declared the prints a match, stood up, stretched then noticed me staring at him somewhat blankly. "Here have a look." He said pushing the papers toward me. I held the magnifying glass over the first print, fascinated by the lines that came into focus. I traced the arches and curves with my eyes trying to memorize every detail before moving on to its twin. I did the same to the second as I had the first, going back and forth between the two as I had watched Holmes do. Knowing that they where already a match, it didn't take me long to see the similarities in the prints.

"I can see it." I declared grinning widely. It felt ridiculous to be so exited over something so small but Holmes seemed pleased with my ability, although I could tell he tried not to show it.

Over the next few days we started a pattern. I would bring in the afternoon tea then sit and watch Holmes go about his work. He never complained about my presence and didn't seem to mind answering the questions I asked him.

From what I could gather Holmes use to share his findings with his ex-roommate, Dr. Watson, and now that he was gone Holmes seemed to have decided that I would do instead. I wasn't about complain, everything he showed me I found extremely interesting.

The next day I brought his tea in as usual, I found a stack of books and folders sitting on the desk next to Holmes.

"Read these." Holmes grunted at me.

"Why?" I asked putting down the tray.

"Some important information came in on my case today and I can be bothered, so you can either read these or go back to your chores." He said.

I opened my mouth to ask how I was suppose to learn the things he had been teaching me from a book, but he turned away from me, intent on his work.

He had me at a bit of a disadvantage for he knew that I would rather learn something, anything for that matter, than go back to working for my aunt.

I grudgingly picked up the top Item, a file folder, and walked over to the settee. Looking at the name of the author I decided that perhaps I could learn something from some of the work. The name at the top was that of Sherlock Holmes.

The next day when I walked into the parlor Holmes was once again bend over his desk. I put the tray down and waited, without looking up he motioned at the pile of book. Picking up the top volume I was less than thrilled with the subject: chemistry. Once again, I took up my position on the settee and began to read.

'HOLMES POV'

I was just finishing up with my work, having found the clue I had spent two days searching for, when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in Watson." I called.

He entered the room shaking his head. "By Jove Holmes I shall never understand how you do it." He exclaimed.

I offered his some brandy, commenting on how he must have had a hard day. He chitchatted for moment on his day then sat back and relaxed in his old chair. The married life was doing well on my old friend, despite being tired he looked happy and healthy.

Watson looked around the room and noticed Mikael's sleeping form for the first time. She had fallen asleep about an hour into her reading and had not stirred when Watson had entered.

He stared at her for a minute before turning to me. "Who is that?" he asked, nodding in her direction.

"Oh, that's Mikael Garrison."

At hearing her name, she sat bolt upright knocking the book on the ground and yelled out, "Hydrochloric acid."

MIKAEL'S POV

I looked around the room trying to get my bearings when I spotted Holmes and another man sitting in the room staring at me. The man gazed on with raised brows, most likely contemplating my sanity and Holmes had an amused smirk on his face.

I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment and I quickly reached down to pick up the book. "The uh… last thing I read was on um, hydrochloric acid." I stammered.

"Well since you are awake now," Holmes said, "I can introduce you properly. Mikael this is Dr. John Watson, my closest friend and companion." Watson shook my hand and said a quiet 'how do you do'. Holmes turn to me, "Watson this is Mikael, she is Mrs. Hudson's niece and my new apprentice."

At hearing the last part Watson and I abruptly let go of hands and stared at Holmes.

"Apprentice?" we asked in unison. Apparently, Watson was just as shocked about this as I.

Holmes reacted as only Holmes can, he ignored us both and stuffed his pipe.

TBC

(I'll get the next chapter up as soon as it's rewritten. BYE!)


	2. The First Case

A/N: Yay! I finally finished re-editing the second chapter. Thanx to Jilla For betaing for me and also to for the review, I'm glad you like it. So without further ado I present the next chapter featuring Holmes and Mikael.

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**Chapter two: The First Case**

Mister and Miss had been dropped between Holmes and myself, we found formalities got in the way of research and findings; that and it was easier to argue without the burden of extra words. Perhaps I should turn the word argue to yell since more yelling happened then arguing, our personalities did not always match.

I had spent almost an entire summer under the tutelage of Sherlock Holmes. Two and half months of reading, studying, drilling, and being scrutinized; I did nothing right as far as he was concerned, and I was sick of him.

In reality, I was sick of both him and my aunt but since I couldn't get away with yelling at her Holmes bore more of my frustration then he should have. However, he did deserve it in some ways. The day after he announced that I was his apprentice he decided that I needed to be worked harder, and that requires more time with him. Aunt Martha on the other hand, was all ready unhappy with the hour and a half that I spent with Holmes to begin with. So while Holmes was pressing me for more time studying, my aunt pushed for more time doing the things a young lady is supposed to be doing.

Needless to say, I was exhausted after two and a half months of this, and Holmes wasn't the most understanding of people.

His present mood wasn't making him any more likable either. He had solved his latest case; spending several weeks in Norway investigating a smuggling operation, and was now in an after case depression.

My poor aunt had suffered much in the last few days; you could say that the air hung a little thick in the house. Holmes sat deep in his chair smoking his pipe and looking somewhat sinister, while I fought off a large headache and attempted to put the pieces of one of his first cases together with very little evidence and so far no success.

"Surely you were given more evidence than this by the police when you started the case Holmes, this is impossible."

"I had less then what I gave you, now think of what is in front of you Mikael."

Sighing I turned back to my work. After another five minutes of staring blankly I groaned in frustration and started rummaging through the papers, talking my self through each step. Looking up, I caught Holmes glowering at me.

"What?" I asked, wondering what I had done to so obviously offend him.

He didn't answer so I returned to my task. Seconds into my second audible run through of the case, Holmes cleared his throat. I jerked my head up, glaring.

"You have had me sitting in front of books and microscopes for three weeks, if my talking bothers you so much then you could at _least _give me one small hint. My brain is not use to this kind of work and you sitting over there clearing your throat at me does not help matters." By the time I finished yelling at him I was on my feet.

Holmes jumped out of his chair sending the book that was on his lap flying. The look on his face and the suddenness of his moves made me jump back in surprise.

"I seriously believe you have not flexed your brain in a long while since I have yet to find a trace of one in your skull."

My jaw dropped open in disbelief. "Holmes, that is unfair. I..."

"Life is not fair Mikael, when you prove to me that you have a brain and can use it, I will believe that you have one; but until then you are just a silly, stupid teenager."

That stung. Not knowing what else to do I stood up, gathered my papers and went down to my room.

By mid-afternoon I had relaxed but was still somewhat afraid to go and face Holmes. When my Aunt returned home from her day at the market, a middle-aged woman followed her through the door. Holmes came out of the study and led her into the library. My curiosity overcame my apprehension of what Holmes would do if he caught me spying on him.

Aunt Martha had brought them tea, then I waited until I was sure it was safe to walk out in the open. I crept down the hall to the door and pressed my face up against the keyhole. The lady was sitting on the edge of her seat relating her problem in very hushed tones; I had a hard time hearing all she had to say. Holmes sat in his chair with his hands pressed together, smoking his pipe.

Enable to find out all that was going on I alternated pushing my eye and my ear against the door. I managed to overhear her say that someone in her family had been kidnapped, although I couldn't make out whom. I also saw her hand a paper to Holmes, which I assumed to be the ransom note. Holmes looked very troubled and sounded sympathetic and sincere, making me believe I was not spying on the same man that had yelled at me earlier in the day.

I watched Holmes crouch down in front of the womanand start talking to her in a way that made me switch to using my ear. The tone of his voice was the most reassuring thing I have ever heard.

"Mrs. Banks, I will find your son. I will hit the streets tonight to gather whatever evidence the police have missed. Now I want you to go home and try to think of anything that might help and meet me in a fortnight at the Simpson's restaurant at seven o'clock."

Upon hearing this, I quietly backed away from the door and into the kitchen with my Aunt.

As I had expected him to, after Holmes had escorted what was now his client to her cab, he entered the kitchen to inform Aunt Martha of his plans. The look that he threw in my direction told me that he knew I had been spying on him.

"Mrs. Hudson don't bother making my dinner tonight I will be away for the next few days."

My aunt just nodded her head, "I thought as much Mr. Holmes."

Holmes left the room and went up to his room to pack his bags; paying me no further heed.

"Aunt Martha will you excuse me I have a letter I must finish."

Before she could ask me to stay and help with dinner, I ran down the hall to my room to pack a few of my own things.

Digging through my trunk that I had been neglecting to unpack, I pulled out a small russack, some trousers I had found useful on more than one occasion, an old shirt and the other things that I knew I would need on the streets of London. I slid out the window, which unfortunately faced the street, to hide in the bushes in the front of the apartmentWhen Holmes finally emerged for the house, he had adopted the look of a construction worker after a hard day's work. He was almost a block away before I pulled my cap down tighter on my head and chased after him. It was difficult for my short legs to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.

As he entered the crowds getting off work, I had to run to stay close enough so as not to lose him. At one point, I made the mistake of bumping into a rather large man when I stopped suddenly to avoid being too close to the unsuspecting Holmes. Quickly dodging his curses and swinging hand I apologized and moved on my way. Thanking my training when I heard then fat man call me 'lad'.

Eventually Holmes walked into a pub that was definitely on the wrong side of town. I slid in behind him and melted into a dark corner in the back. Holmes mixed in with the regulars appearing to be no different then they were. After about an hour I ordered something to eat and contemplated telling the waitress that Holmes was my father to make him foot the bill. It was because of him in part that I was here instead of eating my aunt's delicious food.

In four hours the main crowd had drank around fifteen beers each, except for Holmes who had only drank six. You would never know how little he drank however, because he acted more sloshed than everyone else put together.

Not long afterwards, a few brawls were about to happen and the pub owner started thinning out the crowd. I was forced to leave with the second group of men enable to prevent blowing my cover; although I had the feeling that Holmes knew he was being followed. Holmes was the last person to stagger out of the bar. He stumbled down the road, drunkenly singing the most vulgar song that I had heard since entering London (it fit his present persona perfectly I must add).

By the time we had gotten five blocks away the singing had stopped and the stumbling lessened. He ducked down an alleyway and quickened his step; I crouched at the entrance to watch where he would go next when a burly man stepped out from behind a garbage can with a gun in his hand.

Holmes froze as the gun was held up to his head.

"Well, if'n it isn't Sherlock Holmes. Oi 'spected Oi would see you 'ear. You stay offa this case if'n yer wanten t' live gov'ner." Cockney was the easiest accent to identify.

While to man was talking, Holmes had slowly withdrawn his own gun. Suddenly he whirled around, punching at the bigger man as he did so, but the stranger was faster than his size suggested, that and Holmes was not wholly unaffected by his half dozen drinks.

The two men began to struggle and Holmes' gun was knocked from his hand. As they fought over the remaining gun, I started wondering why there wasn't a bobbie patrolling the area.

Unfortunately, with the alcohol in his system, Holmes was no match for the Cockney.

I had been slowly creeping down the wall, trying to get as close as possible to the fracas. Holmes was thrown to the ground and I heard the gun cock. I screamed and jumped backwards, tripping over something and falling against the alley wall. The sound distracted the Cockney allowing Holmes to get the upper hand. Holmes jumped to his feet, punching the man squarely in the jaw causing him to crumple to the ground.

As I untangled myself from the rubbish I had tripped over, I stole a glance in Holmes' direction. He wasn't happy.

"Mikael, why on earth are you here?" he snapped.

I reached back to explore the knot on my head while I answered, "I just thought that… well actually I didn't really think I just did. Ow"

Holmes opened his mouth to give me the berating that I deserved but he stopped when I brought my hand forward and he saw blood on it. His face softened slightly and when I started to get up, he pushed me back down.

"Stay where you are while I dispose of our friend." Holmes pocketed the man's gun and grabbed the him unceremoniously by the ankles, dragged him out to the street where he would most likely be found by a patrolling constable. Returning to my side, Holmes handed me his handkerchief and instructed me to hold it to the gash in my skull.

"Come, let's get you patched up." He said gruffly.

Holmes was about to lift my nearly unconscious form when suddenly what little pride I still had over came my dizziness and my head cleared enough for me to insist that I could walk. Holmes helped me to my feet, offered his supporting arm and led me off through the night.


	3. Enter Mycroft

Chapter three: Enter Mycroft Holmes

Holmes took me to one of his many bolt holes that he had throughout London. I was pushed through a small door that was well hidden.

"Sit in that chair and keep holding that cloth to your head." he said gruffly.

"Holmes it's not that bad. Just give me some water and a place to lie down. Ouch, that hurt what are you doing back there?" Besides the sting that I felt, there was also the obtrusive smell of alcohol.

"Just cleaning the cut. And your right it isn't all that bad, although you probably have a slight concussion at the moment."

Holmes gave me a blanket and it did not take long before I passed out on his couch.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of breakfast. Not recognizing my surroundings immediately, I sat up swiftly then wished that I hadn't.

"Ohh, I think my head is about to explode." I moaned.

"Here," said Holmes plopping a plate of eggs in front of me, "this will help."

"You can cook?"

I couldn't help the doubt that crept into my voice.

"My dear Mikael, I did not always have your aunt to take care of me. Besides it's just eggs, there isn't much you can do to ruin them."

"You never tasted my father's cooking."

Holmes gave me a humorous glance. "You know that is the first time you have mentioned you father since I met you."

"Yes well, don't expect to hear much about him. And no, you may not ask why."

Holmes raised his brow at my sudden curtness but left it at that.

After we had eaten, he decided to address the current problem facing him, that problem being my presence.

"I knew you were following me," he started, "but I did not expect you to follow me into the pub, and stick around for almost five hours. It's not the sort of place a young lady would choose to eat."

"A lady never would even entertain the thought of entering such a place. However, I have learned a few things here and there, and a young street rat would think nothing of going into that pub. Although I do believe the waitress was wondering were I had gotten the money to pay for my food."

Holmes actually started to smile as he listened to me. I could tell that he wished to ask me where I had learned about roll playing but I chose to ignore the question in his eyes and he chose not to voice it.

"Well, I guess I can't really send you home after last night, and for all I know you'll just hide someplace nearby and follow me through this entire case. And in your current condition you would probably pass out at some point while following me and the police would have to investigate yet another murder, because I am quite sure that Mrs. Hudson would kill me if something happened to you."

My excitement overcame me, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It took more self-control than even I knew I had not to yell out for joy. This was just all too good. "So I get to stay and help in the case?"

"No, you simply get to stay, enabling you to watch and learn."

I'm pretty sure I heard a thump as my excitement hit the floor. I gave some serious thought to whining but changed my mind when I remembered what happened the last time that I had whined. Besides there was always the chance that he might change his mind, he had already changed it once by allowing me to stay.

After inspecting my wound and pronouncing it to be healing nicely Holmes gathered his coat and headed for the door. "I have some business to attend to, you stay here and find yourself something more suitable to wear. I'll be back in a few hours."

Looking around at the odd assortment of clothing hung in the small room "Holmes, how am I supposed to find anything in here?"

He let out a deep breath that clearly showed his annoyance at my question, "I don't know, but I'm sure you will find something. And if you get tired of waiting you can always go home."

I crossed my arms resolutely, "I will see you when you return then."

"I thought you would say that." he smirked, ducking out through the small door.

Walking around the small room I noticed that he had left a basin of water for me to wash up, something I never would have expected Holmes to think of. As I washed my face I remembered that he had said for me to put on something more suitable, probably meaning that I should once again look like a respectable young woman and not the dirty street rat I was dressed as.

Looking around the room once more at the jumble of clothing I wondered if there was any kind of order to the disarray I found myself in. _-This may take a while-_ I thought before setting myself to my task.

I know that Holmes work required some unusual disguises since I had more then once seen odd character's walk through the front door only to find minutes later Holmes alone in the parlor. But to find the amount of women's clothing that was in that room was a little disconcerting. There was nothing there that would really fit me that a little hemming couldn't take care of.

Looking around the room once more I was sure that I could find whatever I needed in Holmes array of equipment. Not a half hour later I had found a dress that wouldn't take to much work, and a needle and thread. Not knowing how much time I had, I attacked the dress furiously. It's amazing how quickly sewing goes when you're not thinking about how horrible it is.

My dress finished, I had only to do my hair, and get ready. Sitting down at his dressing table I began looking for hair pins. In the first two drawers that I opened, I found a large assortment of makeup and several sets of fake teeth and mustaches. In the third drawer I looked in I found what I was looking for_. - I wonder how many men there are in this world that have a room full of dress-up cloths and there own makeup-_ I thought as I pinned my hair up in a tight not on the back of my head; being careful to avoid the sore spot that reminded me of its presence when a pin found its way too close to the small cut.

Satisfied with my hem job, I slipped into my clothing and looked in the mirror to admire my reflection and realized that I had managed to procure a dress but not shoes. I knew that there was no way this would do, so I disobeyed the order to stay put and prayed that I would return before he did. After all Holmes couldn't expect me to go running around England at night with out any shoes.

Not even a block from the bolt hole I found the store that I was looking for and thankfully had enough money left to pay for them. I walked out of the store comfortable in my new shoes and head back to my hiding place. Arriving on the correct street I realized my second problem of the day; I had remembered to take note of the street but not the building. _-Great! Just great. Now I have to find the stupid door-_ I knew it was down an ally but the question was which one. I peered down several allies before I found one that seemed familiar. Checking to see that no one was looking I ducked down and started looking for the door that was hidden in the brick. After about twenty minute I started to panic. Was I in the wrong ally? Had Holmes already returned? _-This is not good.-_ I leaned against the dirty wall and took a deep breath, panicking was not going to help. Stepping back I stared blankly at the wall, convinced I was never going to find the door. Cocking my head I swore I saw a large crack. Putting my hands on the cold mortar I pushed hard and sure enough I felt the wall budge slightly. Tugging up my sleeves I push again, this time harder. The door opened the rest of the way.

Returning to the room, I was relived to find Holmes had not returned. Not even five minutes later Holmes returned. I stood up from the couch to face Holmes, who was standing against the door scrutinizing my appearance.

"Is this suitable enough for whatever it was that you wanted?" I asked.

"Yes," answered Holmes, "It is quite suitable."

It wasn't much of an answer but then again it was Holmes.

"Come Mikael, we have someplace to be and Mycroft does not appreciate his dinner being postponed."

We arrived at this Mycroft's door not ten minutes after leaving the bolt hole. Holmes paid the cabbie and then led me up the stair to the front door where we were greeted by a tall, and rounding man with an uncanny resemblance the Holmes. The two men exchanged brief nods, and when the man turned his attention to me I could tell that I was not what he expected to see.

He shook he head to clear the shocked expression that had spread across his features.

"I am glad to see that you have brought your..er... lady friend with you Sherlock," Did I notice a hesitation before lady? "but I thought that you said you were going to bring your apprentice so that we could discuss business?"

Holmes let out a wry smile as he introduced me and even I had a hard time holding back a laugh afterwards. "Mycroft, this is Miss Mikael Garrison, Mrs. Hudson's niece, and my newly acquired apprentice. Mikael meet my brother Mycroft Holmes."

Extending my hand I performed a slight curtsy, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes. Although I must say it is quite a shock, since Holmes failed to mention that he had a brother."

Mycroft Holmes not sure of what to say to this just brushed his lips over my hand and said,

"A pleasure I'm sure."

This was the first time that a man had ever kissed my hand instead of shaking it, as was the normal process in which practically everyone was greeted in the social circles I was accustomed to traveling in. I seriously doubted that there was much pleasure in it for him though, considering that he had just been made to look a fool by his brother in front a young woman. I however, could not help but feel like the Queen herself at this rather delightful way of introduction.

Entering into the house we shed our coats and hats and handed them over to the waiting hands of the butler. While I was admiring the art in the entry way, I caught Mycroft looking at me as if I was a foreign substance about attack him. We were then led into the Parlor were Brandy was served to the men and sherry was offered and declined by myself.

I could tell that my presence in the room was more that slightly uncomfortable for Mr. Mycroft Holmes. It didn't not take me long to realize that the reason for his dubious looks was that he was not use to seeing his brother Sherlock in the company of young women. Especially ones that have been taken on as an apprentice.

I could not bring myself to think of him as Mr. Holmes since there was, in my mind at least, only one Holmes and mister, as I said earlier, had long since been dropped from our conversations. Our host tried to ease the atmosphere with small talk, "Miss Garrison, how long have you been staying in London?"

"About a three months." My answer was followed by yet another deep silence, and I began studying the room and its furniture.

He tried again, "Are you enjoying the city?"

"I have enjoyed what I've seen. But unfortunately I haven't had much time to sight-see, with Holmes occupying my time as he has." With the last bit Mycroft's eyes when wide and I found myself blushing at the implications of my own words. For some reason, rather than laughing at the mistake and then fixing it, I was horrified at the thought of Mycroft thinking me no more than a whore and could not make my mouth open to explain my meaning.

Holmes appeared to be the only one not affected by what had been said. Looking to my teacher and mentor for some help I found him absorbed in the packing of his pipe. If I didn't know better I would have said that he hadn't heard a single word that had been spoken in the past minutes.

Finally satisfied with the smoke that his pipe was giving off, he got down to business. "Mycroft I did not bring Mikael hear to allow for you to engage in tea party conversations, I brought her hear to help in this case. Whatever details we are to talk about she is to hear them also, so let's get on with it."

At hearing his crack about tea party conversations I had to wonder if in fact he had heard the last part of our said conversation. Having spoke his piece and thereby putting a stop to the chance for me to saying anything more embarrassing than I had already said, Holmes put us back on course. The rest of the night was spent forming the plan of action to be taken next in our case. Although I will admit that it was nearly an hour before the heat left my cheeks and I was able to contribute to the discussion with a clear head. I will also say that it was slightly longer before Mycroft could meet my eyes for any length of time.

TBC

A/N: Yay! I found the third chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and I'll get working on the next chapter asap. See ya :)


	4. Disguises and Unmasking

Chapter four: Disguises and Unmasking

I wish that I could say we got far that night, but by the time Holmes had brought me up to date on what exactly we were doing and filled in the small details he had missed earlier while informing his brother, it was well past mid-night. Mycroft felt that we should lay low for the next day or so, to allow whoever didn't what Holmes on this case to think that he had given up. While the Holmes' brothers discussed that advantages and the disadvantages of this plan, my head ache had returned and I thought for sure that my head would burst. slouching down in my chair I was suddenly very tired. "Holmes." I called quietly. Holmes continued his discussion totally oblivious to my presents. "Holmes!" I said louder, drawing his attention and causing my ears to ring.

"What is it Mikael?" He asked exasperatedly. "I'm sorry Holmes, but I think that I need to go to bed. My head hurts so badly I can't see any more. I don't understand though, because it hasn't bothered me since I woke in your Bolt hole." Holmes features softened, "Your head hasn't bothered you because I put something in your eggs, thinking that it would be all that you would need. You must have hit your head harder that I thought."

As the help was already in bed, I was led upstairs by Mycroft, and brought a glass of something that I was told would help me sleep. I climbed into bed without ever removing my cloths and, thanks to Holmes' potion, slept deeply and dreamlessly.

It was late morning before I awoke and the sunlight streamed in through my bedroom window. Stretching out in the feather bed I felt the knot on the back of my head, noticing that the lump was beginning to shrink. I straitened out my clothing the best I could and headed down the stairs, pausing at the bottom when I heard my name mentioned. I first voice I heard was that of Mycroft Holmes, followed quickly and harshly by that of Sherlock.

"Are you sure that it is wise for you to have such a young girl following you about on your cases? I mean what if something were to go wrong?"

"Don't worry about Mikael, she can take care of herself. Besides she proved to be quite useful to me the other night."

"Good god Sherlock! You're not sleeping with her are you? Because to take advantage of one so young and innocent is a despicable thing to do."

Holmes snorted in response. "Innocent. Of all of the qualities that I have witnessed Mikael Garrison as possessing, innocence is definitely not one of them."

I heard Mycroft draw in his breath, "Sherlock...I"

Before he go any farther Holmes stopped him, "There is no need to berate me further. I have not slept with her or had any intentions of doing so. Although Mikael shows promise of being a bright girl, she is not the type that a man would ever willingly bring into his bed."

I stood riveted to my spot outside their door a wave of emotions swept over me. I was touched at the thought of Mycroft seaming want to protect me, even from his brother. Shocked at the rather careless way Holmes spoke of me, although I was relieved that he did not want to sleep with me, I was still furious at him. What was so terribly wrong with me that would make every man in the world abhor the idea of being with me. Unable to stand and do nothing I pushed open the doors and walked in as abruptly as possible. "Good morning gentlemen" I said

"Good morning Mikael, I take it you slept well." Holmes nodded in my direction.

A worried look spread across Mycroft's features and he turned several shades of red..

Holmes' expression didn't change. Mycroft just cleared his throat, "Let's have breakfast, shall we."

Breakfast seamed to lack that comfortable atmosphere we had shared at the close of the previous evening; even Holmes appeared to feel the difference. Mycroft retained his troubled expression, and I was too mad to even look at Holmes. After the meal things did not get any better for me. The suggestion was made that we all change and head out to clear our heads before deciding what to do next on our case. Going back to my room I remembered that I didn't have anything to change into; for even my trousers were back at the bolt hole. This was the last straw, for the morning at least. Sitting down at the window, I silently cursed everything that came to mind. There was a knock at my door. "Mikael are you ready?" It was Holmes. Still staring out the window I answered, "I'm not going with you."

"And why not?" he asked. _And why won't he just go away_, I thought. "Because I have nothing to wear, all my things are either in the bolt hole or at home." Holmes must have decided that this was enough for he suddenly threw open the door. "Mikael this is not the time to start acting like a prissy teenager." Turning around I saw that he was standing right outside my doorway. He had crossed the line with this bold move. I jumped from my seat and ran to were he stood. "Go to hell Holmes!" I yelled slamming the door in his face.

Not surprisingly the two men left with out me. Once I was sure that they were completely gone I took myself on a tour of the house. Walking through the corridors looking at paintings, and exploring the numerous books in the library calmed my nerves considerably. By the time they returned, we were all ready to once again focus on the case.

"Sherlock," started Mycroft, "let's go over all of it from the beginning now that our minds are clear and ready to solve this thing."

Holmes stood up and cleared his throat as if preparing for an act in a play. Scene one: "Two days ago on the afternoon of the 16th a Mrs. Reta Banks, married to one Shelton E. Banks owner of several affluent restaurants, showed up on my door step in much need of an detective.

She had returned from a shopping trip in France in the morning of the 15th. When she saw her husband for afternoon tea she asked him where their son Danston was. His answer was that he had been spending the last few nights at a friends house, a Gregory Tredwell. It apparently is not unusual for young Mr. Banks to disappear over at his friends house for long periods of time. However, this time was different. When Mr. and Mrs. Banks awoke on the morning of the 16th, they found this fastened to their front door." Holmes pulled a paper from off of the table and indicated to it with his left hand. The performance continued, "The note reads as follows:

_You may have notice the absence of you son,_

_but not to worry for he is in safe hands._

_However if the police are called_

_then my hands will not longer be safe._

_If you wish to see him again alive_

_then I suggest that you bring £50,000_

_to the factory on Dover street._

_Be there alone on the first or the boy dies._

There you have it. The boy was taken sometime between his leaving for his friends and the morning of the 16th. It is now the 18th and I have little to show for it." He paused deep in thought. Before he could start again though, I interrupted. "The Banks' are obviously being watched since they know that Holmes is on the case. They have already proven themselves shrewd and deadly with their attempt on Holmes' life. So now we have twelve days to find the boy without being seen. Not the most pleasant prospect."

"What about your visit to the pub? Did you glean any information from that excursion?" asked Mycroft.

"All that I managed to find out there is that none of the usual gangs are behind it"

Holmes was right, we had very little to show for almost two days on the job. "So where to now Holmes."

"I now will look into the smaller gangs, my dear Mikael." he said in a tone that left me feeling that for some reason I should have known what was to happen next. "Tonight I will visit a few of the other pubs around town, I have a few informants scattered throughout the town."

I noticed the singular expression he used and decided to correct it. "Don't you mean we will go around to the local pubs Holmes?"

Mycroft must have felt the friction suddenly surge though the air when Holmes and I locked gazes, for he found an invisible spot on his coat that consumed all of his attention. Holmes shot me a look that said he was going to put down his foot; he obviously still had this mornings outburst and door slam on his mind. "No, I did not mean 'we' Mikael, because Mycroft does not enjoy this sort of work and you are certainly not going." I rose to this challenge he laid in front of me. "I am going." I said, rising to my full five foot two and hoping that it made me look as inflexible as I felt.

It didn't work.

Holmes came and stood right up next to me, dwarfing my small frame, and looked strait down at me. The look in his eyes made my resolve slip momentarily. "You are not going." he repeated more firmly this time. "A pub is no place for a young lady and you have already spent all the time in one that you will be allowed to. A neighborhood bar is not safe for any seventeen year old girl."

"Then I wont be a girl." I hollered at him. I went up on my tip toes to get as high as possible.

He took a step back and I thought at first that he was thinking it over. "No." he said flatly. "You are not to come and that's final." He left no room for further discussion. I turned around and left the room. As I went through the door, I called back over my shoulder, "If you think that the other night was my first time in a pub Holmes, then you are sorely mistaken." I left the two gentlemen alone to ponder my last remarks.

I when upstairs to my room slamming to door behind me. I looked around for moment wondering where I could vent my rage, then walked calmly over to the bed, grabbed the pillow, held it up to my face and screamed loudly into it. The innocent pillow was next flung across the room at the window. That man had to be the most horrible man in all of London. He was nothing like his older brother; Mycroft was the epitome of gentlemanly behavior. I knew that I would never understand the difference between those two brothers. I decided that I didn't really care either since it made Mycroft that much more agreeable to be around. I thought that perhaps once I cooled down I would return to Bakers Street since it was obvious that Holmes was not going to let me do anything other than sit in his brother's house and think. At least Bakers street had cloths because my current position was beginning to make me feel like I was in prison.

Twenty minutes later I heard the front door close rather harder that usual, telling me that Holmes had left the house. Before I could get down stairs to apologize to Mycroft for my unlady like behavior I heard him too, walk out the door; I must add that his exit was considerably less harsh although just as hurried.

Having nothing else to do I once again wandered through the house. After begging a small snack from some woman in the kitchen, I collected a book entitled 'Poems from the Sixteenth Century.' Thinking that some romantic nonsense was exactly what I needed I curled up on a large soft chair in the library to relax.

I awoke two hours later to voices down the hall in the study. I found the Holmes' brothers in there discussing something that was abruptly halted upon my entrance. Mycroft addressed me, "Mikael I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of having Mrs. Hudson pack a few of you things for your stay here. The bag is up in your room." This was a happy surprise and I said just as much to Mycroft. He just smiled at me, and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight of it. I didn't really understand why it happened but it was not an unpleasant feeling.

I didn't really want to spend any unnecessary time stuck in a room with Holmes so I excused myself in went upstairs to change.

I wasn't very hungry when dinner when served and I just sort of picked at the food on my plate. Holmes glanced over at my still full plate and said, "If you want to join me in my interrogations this evening then you had better eat something."

My head snapped up after the words sunk in. "I get to go with?"

He answered without looking up from his plate, "That is what it sounded like I said isn't it? Your russack is by the front door."

I turned my attention to my food but was lacking a fork, I hadn't notice that I had dropped it on the floor when I looked up. Finding it, I wiped it off and began eating quickly. Mycroft was doing a bad job of hiding his amusement over the whole thing. I had a hunch that it was due to him that Holmes had changed his mind.

Holmes and I readied for the evening and set out for out first pub of the night. I never knew that questioning could be so hard. It took several different people before I could manage to ask more then two questions before losing their attention, and even then they were not to keen on answering the questions of what they thought was a scruffy young boy. In the end I had to resort to eavesdropping on what was said around me, without, of course, looking to interested in what was being said.

We spent over half the night questioning people and eavesdropping on conversations. If I got absolutely nowhere that night then Holmes wasn't very far ahead.

It was well after midnight when Holmes and I walked in the warm summer night through London back towards Mycroft's house. We must have looked quite a sight walking down the street together; one was a rather short street rat and the other a tall, ruff looking construction worker.

Thankfully we didn't pass any bobbies on their nightly patrol.

As we made our way down the street we talked in hushed tone over what we found out, or perhaps I should say what we didn't find out, during our night work.

I started the conversation.

"Well other then a few petty burglaries Holmes, I heard very little of what the local gangs have been up to lately. And the way they talked those up they would surely mention kidnapping a young boy and holding him for a £50,000 ransom." He nodded in agreement, "Most certainly. I discovered little more. The Westside gang is planning an attack on the southsiders on the 22nd, and other than that nothing worth mentioning."

We walked in silence for a few minutes. I knew that Holmes was thinking of what he would do next, so I didn't interrupt his concentration. Eventually I notice that he was looking out of the corner of his eye at me. I pretended that I didn't notice, though it was a bit unnerving.

"You did good work tonight." He said finally. The fact that he gave me an outright compliment threw me off. I started to wonder if he was feeling well.

"Thank you. Is everything all right?" I asked glancing over at him.

"As much as can be expected." We went a few more steps in silence. He spoke again, "Where did you learn to handle yourself like that? If I didn't know better I would have said you were just another gutter boy."

I shrugged, "Picked it up here and there." I tried to leave it at that but Holmes gave me a look that I figured he used on suspect that he wanted to talk. It made me feel like I needed to tell him more, "I spent the last few years hanging out with a group of boys that roved the streets. They thought it was neat that a girl wanted to join their band and become a boy. They were more than eager to teach me all they knew." Holmes had a pensive look on his face. I attempted to make a joke out of it. "If you ever need an experienced pick pocket I was Peter's best provider." I let out a pitiful laugh and Holmes just gave me a grave stare.

Then he asked the question that I had been hoping that he wouldn't ask, "What made you choose to rove the city streets instead of joining in the normal activities that young girls participate in?"

I sighed and answered. I figured that if Holmes was going to teach me he might as well now what he was working with. "When I was little my mom spoilt me but Dad let it be known that he wanted a son, which left me out of the picture. My parents tried to have another kid but it never happened. My mom died when I was seven and it left him devastated. He locked himself in his room and wouldn't come out. Everybody got real worried about him and I was pretty much on my own. I thought that maybe if I became a boy that I would be wanted, so enter Peter."

Holmes stopped walking and stared after my figure as I continued to move towards Mycroft's place. "Did It work?" he asked jogging back up to my side. I laughed to myself, "No. At some point down the line he realized that I was all he had left of my mother. He has spent the last few years trying to turn me back into a girl. That's why I'm here, he was hoping the Aunt Martha could civilize me." I pulled on my masculine clothes, "I guess it didn't work." We finished our walk without saying another word, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Looky I found another chapter! With school out I can start writing on it again (at least until I get a job YUCK!) anywho I hope you enjoyed it so far. 


	5. An Interview

A/N: Ok so before you say it yes I am a bad, horrible person who neglects her characters. I know it's been over a year but I've been really busy. I'm so sorry. So this update is kinda short but it's something at least. Enjoy!

Chapter Five: An Interview

When I came down stairs later that morning the men were already eating. Mycroft stood and pulled out a chair for me which I gratefully accepted. Holmes acted as if nothing had happened and rattled along about what he had planned for the day, the last part caught my attention. "Tonight we are meeting Mrs. Banks at the Starlight restaurant."

We! Holmes willingly putting me in his plans?! This I had to question, "What time will we need to leave?"

He responded immediately, "I would like for you to be ready to leave at half past four." I could have leapt for joy at his words; he was finally letting me help ungrudgingly. I smiled broadly and set back into my eggs. As much as I wanted to I knew it would be unprofessional to celebrate openly, although I could have sworn that I saw Holmes attempt to hide a grin.

I was ready promptly and four-thirty, clutching a small hand bag that contained a note pad and pencil in case I was asked to take notes. "Shall we be going?" I asked Holmes who was waiting at the foot of the stairs. He merely nodded his head and stepped out the door. Once outside I saw that Holmes had already taken the liberty of fetching a cab for us. Holmes astonished me by opening the door and helping me into the hansom cab, something that he had never done before. This chivalrous attitude that he was displaying was truly stumping but I figured it wouldn't last long, so I chose to enjoy it while I could.

After we had begun moving I noticed Holmes staring at me in deep concentration. He was thinking over the different situations that would come up in our visit with his client no doubt, but none the less it soon became unnerving. There was something different in his gaze, almost as if he was attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I began wiggling in my seat. He must have realized what he was doing because he abruptly shifted his gaze out the window. I too peered out at the passing city streets and shook off the strange feeling Holmes' gaze had left me with.

Upon arriving at the restaurant we were shown to a table where we waited for Mrs. Banks to arrive. As we sat there I could feel myself becoming apprehensive. I was worried on how she would react to having another person there. She obviously trusted Holmes with this touchy situation but would she be comfortable with me being there as well. I reached into my hand bag for my note pad and pen, Hoping that maybe if I kept my hands busy I wouldn't ruin this meeting.

"Mikael, do try to relax; you fidgeting in your seat will not make this any easier on you or the client." Holmes said. Looking down at my hands I saw that I was rattling my pen against my palm. "Right, sorry." I said. _So much for that idea_ I thought. Obviously having a pen in hand might not be the best idea.

A few minutes later Mrs. Banks arrived. As she approached the table, Holmes rose to greet her and I did likewise. Trailing along behind Mrs. Banks was a young man in about his early twenties with dark brown hair and eyes and a nicely trimmed beard. Both clients said their hellos to Holmes and I learned that the young man was the Banks' eldest son Raymond. Raymond, I must say, did not look thrilled to be there and I noticed that both the Banks' were looking over at me warily.

Holmes seeing the uneasy glances they were casting at me promptly introduced me. "This is my associate Miss Mikael Garrison. She has been helping me with your son's case."

Mrs. Banks cast one more glance in my direction before taking the seat offered her by Holmes. She fidgeted in her seat waiting for Holmes to start the meeting and he, as usual, took his sweet time about it. "I trust things are holding up fine at home?" He queried. At this tears began to well up in the woman's eyes and Raymond quickly jumped to his mothers rescue. "Just exactly how fine do you expect for things to be in my house right now? My little brother has been kidnapped, and you have yet to tell us what you have done to help retrieve him."

"Unfortunately Mrs. Banks, as much as I wish I could tell you now that I know exactly where your son is that is not at this time the case." The unfortunate mother sank down in her chair visibly heartbroken at Holmes' words. I looked from Holmes to the pair sitting in front of us wondering if I should say something. Before I even had the chance to however, Holmes added. "I have however found some interesting leads that are well worth pursuing." Since I no longer felt that I needed to say anything I simply smiled encouragingly at them not knowing what else to do after listening to Holmes blatantly lie to them about evidence and leads that did not exist.

While Holmes went on weaving his web to lift the mother's downtrodden heart I turned my attention back to the son. Rather then listening intently to Holmes, Raymond Banks had his attention fixed firmly on me. I thought that I had felt his gaze on me and when I looked him in the eye he gave a soft smile. Although I know I should have been wondering what he was doing looking at me rather then listening to Holmes for information about his brother, no matter how fake it really was, I felt myself smile back and flush as I looked down at the tablecloth.

By the end of our meeting Mrs. Banks seemed slightly steadier on her feet, I was thoroughly red, and I'm pretty sure the Raymond had no clue what had been talked about.

After seeing them off in there cab Holmes flagged one down for our own ride home. We rode back with Holmes keeping a stony silence and I did not even attempt to break it. Once we were safely tucked away inside the Bakers street parlor however, the silence was broken.

"Might I remind you Mikael that the purpose of interviews such as the one held tonight was for the purpose of gleaning any new information and checking up on our clients. NOT for playing with the affections of young men."

"Now that is unfair." I countered. "I was not 'playing' with his affections as you put it. It's simply that Raymond Banks is an attractive young man." I received a snort in response as Holmes dropped into his chair. "And there was nothing wrong with my actions. Most girls my age are either all ready married or are being courted."

"Yes and most girls your age have no brains." He spat. "I brought you along so that you could learn. You certainly didn't see me batting my eyes at young Mister Banks did you?"

I glare at my companion, "Well I sure hope not or you need some serious help."

I swear I could see steam coming out of Holmes at such a remark. "Besides," I continued, "so what if my behavior was unprofessional. Is blatantly lying to them considered to be professional?"

Holmes avoided the question, already off on a different avenue of thought. "However, I must say that his being more interested in you then in the welfare of his brothers does bring up some questions."

This was the second time in a three day period that Holmes had make it seem impossible for me to attract someone's special attention and I had had about enough of it. "Now listen here you…" But I was cut off; my companion, having pulled out his pipe, seemed to have completely forgotten that I was even in the room.


	6. Clues and Rendezvous

A/N: Yay! Lookie another chapter. I did it! Hmmm… now I have to keep doing it. It's should be manageable. It's short again but it's better then nothing. Well here you go.

Chapter six: Clues and Rendezvous

When Holmes' pipe comes out any chance of conversation, or argument in this case, is lost. I fumed out of the room before the smoke had a chance to enveloped Holmes and his thoughts.

Grabbing my hat I headed out of doors again, thinking that a walk might cool my temper.

Out in the sunshine I allowed my thoughts to roam through dark paths. _Why do I put up with him? _seemed to be the thought that jumped out the most. Why when I could be sitting comfortably with my aunt, helping her with her duties and becoming the efficient and responsible woman that would get me married and settled down like most girls my age. I should just go back to Bakers Street and do what I was sent here to do.

The longer I walked and mulled over this idea the more I knew the answer. I wasn't with my aunt right now because I didn't really want to settle down. I enjoyed the capering that came with following Holmes around, and I loved the puzzles that constantly challenged me. Damnit! I hate it when Holmes is right! As I started to calm down, rational thought began to take over.

So maybe I shouldn't have been paying quite so much attention to Raymond Banks. That just meant that my timing was a little off. Well, maybe way off.

Not long after this realization I found myself half way across town, entering the shopping district. The streets where crowded with the evening shoppers who were bustling from store to store. I smiled to myself as I watched the people around me. Although I enjoyed my solitude every now and them, I love crowds. You never know what, or whom you will see among so many people; and the London streets held so much potential.

Ladies dressed in silks and ruffles, servants, workers. The high and low classes together, all making up the hodge-podge jumble that is city life. As I took a moment to watch people pass me by, I was surprised to see a familiar face. The face belonged to a young man who would appear at time at Bakers Street to speak to Holmes. He spotted me and waved me over. As I made my way over I tried to remember his name. _Walker, Wesley, Wiggins. _Wiggins that's what it was.

"Evening to you miss." He said gallantly tipping his cap almost to the floor and wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I smiled at him. His cocky attitude reminded me of Peter and days spent running free.

"Good evening Wiggins. Staying out of trouble tonight?"

He jammed his cap back on his head and returned my smile. "Naturally. I would never think of getting into trouble. I was just escorting my sister on an errand." With that he turned to the small blond behind him. "Pamela, this is Miss Garrison. She is a house guest of Mrs. Hudson over at Mr. Holmes place. Miss Garrison this is Pamela Wiggins, my older sister and the chamber maid to Old Mrs. Robins on Oak Street."

Pamela gave me a quick curtsy, "Pleased to meet you Miss Garrison."

I took an instant liking to this girl. She appeared to be around my age and everything about her told me that she was shy. "The pleasure is all mine Pamela. But please call me Mikael." She smiled at my offer of friendship; the same bright smile that lit up her brother's face.

Before we could say anything more, Wiggins asked if I know where Holmes was. Thinking that it might be best not to let the lad know anything about the current case I simply stated that he was working a case and would not be back to Bakers Street until it was finished. "Is there something you need relayed to him?" I asked.

"Just tell him that all is still quiet."

"I will do that the next time I see him."

At that Pamela stepped forward, poking her brother on the shoulder. "Come Thomas, I need to be getting back. Mrs. Robins will be wondering where I've gone off to. Nice to meet you Miss Mikael."

"Good bye." I said as they went on there way.

After they had left I laughed quietly at myself. I had been completely thrown off when she had called her brother Thomas. I had never thought that Wiggins name wasn't just Wiggins. With Holmes knack for addressing people by their last name it only made sense that this was also the case for his young informer as well. Thomas made much more sense then just Wiggins for a first name.

Feeling lighter of heart and thinking much less dark thoughts towards Holmes. I set off to do some window shopping. AS I paused at a window filled with hats and scarves I heard male voices coming from the alley beside the shop. The voice did not seem happy. Now to hear arguments in a city alleyway is not all that unusual, but to hear them in the day time when other people are around is. Looking around however, I realized that there really wasn't a lot of people around this particular shop.

My curiosity got the better of me. Pretending to be very interested in the items in front of me I listened in on there conversation.

It was difficult to make out what was being said as their voices where low and the general hum of the city was behind me. As I was about to turn away the voice grew suddenly violent.

"Either you get the money by Friday or I finish the boy."

I was shocked. The conversation could only have to do with one thing but what could it mean?

I strained my ears to hear more. There was some stammering that was undecipherable. Then the first voice again.

"No excuses! Bring the money to Devon street or else."

As much as I wanted to know who was in that alley I didn't feel safe making myself known to these men. I ducked into the shop and asked the clerk for paper and quickly wrote down the name of the street.

Although I knew I should probably head straight for Holmes I decided to do a bit of my own detective work.

I headed back out onto the street determined to keep and ear out for the voice I had hear so as to put a face with it.

I wondered around for a half hour without success. I walked around the corner intent on my task and right into a man and landed promptly on my rear.

The man was Raymond Banks. He smiled as he helped me to my feet and I turned bright red. I stammered out and apology. "Oh Mr. Banks. I'm so sorry I was um preoccupied and didn't see you." I didn't think it was my place to tell him that I had just overheard his brother's captors and perhaps murders. I shuddered at this thought. He noticed my shudder and placed his hand on my elbow.

"Are you all right? If you're hurt I can go for a doctor."

I shook my head and protested that I was really fine. By now I was pretty sure I had blushed clear down to my toes. He gestured for us to walk forward and I accepted the invitation.

We walked side by side for some time speaking lightly of various subjects. As we found ourselves reaching Regence Park I realized that once again Holmes was right. Here I was flirting with this man when his brother was in danger and I had information. We were now quite a ways from anyone else so ventured to mention his sad business at home.

"Mr. Banks I'm so sorry for your brother. I'm sure Holmes will have him home safe in no time. But this must be a horrible strain for your family." When he turned to look at me I noticed for the first time just how dark his eyes were and that there was something in the look of them that was a little unsettling. But this was quickly forgotten. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "Please call me Raymond." Then unexpectedly he kissed my cheek.

This time I was sure I blushed to my toes.

"Sir," said I, "that is hardly appropriate. We just met this afternoon." But I was smiling when I said it. He turned slightly red himself and smiled back at me.

Turning away from me he looked at his watch. "It's getting late." He said, "May I escort you home?"

I thought of my aunt back at Bakers Street and then again of the paper I had shoved in my pocket. "No thank you I just remembered I had a dinner invitation at a friend's house this evening, and I should probably head straight there so they don't worry."

As we headed back towards the street he hailed a cab and handed me into it. I gave the address to the driver and allowed Raymond to pay the cab for me since he insisted and waved goodbye to him.

When I returned to Mycroft's I found Holmes still sitting in the parlor. Although the pipe was no longer lit the room was still thick with the smoke. I coughed after I entered and attempted to fan the vulgar smell away from me.

Holmes looked over his shoulder at me. "Ah I was wondering when you would return. I think I may have found a key to where the boy is located."

"Have you now. Because I have found the exact street that he is at and I did it without this foul odor around me." I opened the window to try and clear out the room. When I turned to face Holmes he was staring at me in surprise.

I caught Holmes up on what I had been doing all evening, including my attempt at matching a face to the voice. "Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful and I wasn't able to keep trying after I ran into Raymond." Opps. I hadn't meant to let Holmes know I was waking with Raymond today. Not after the argument earlier.

Holmes who had been sitting back listening to me, sat bolt upright at this last part.

"You saw Raymond Banks while in town?"

"Well, Yes but.."

He cut me off. "How far where you from where you had heard the voices in the alley?"

"Um About a block or so. But what does this…"

Once again I wasn't allowed to finish.  
"That makes perfect sense!" He said jumping up from his chair. "Mikael you may have just solved this case."

"Huh?" was my intelligent reply.

"Don't you see?" Holmes was really on a roll now. "The voice that you couldn't understand in the alleyway; that was Raymond Banks. Every since our meeting this afternoon I've been thinking his lack of concern over and you have just confirmed my theory. Young Mr. Banks is in cahoots with his brothers kidnappers."

I had been shocked into silence and disbelief. This now changed. "Now wait just one damn minute. What do you mean, Raymond is in 'cahoots'?"

But rather then answering he dashed out the door and into the night.


	7. Case Closed

**A/N: **Oh my god another chapter. Did you think I was dead?? There will be more soon… I hope. ~LF

**Chapter Seven: Case closed**

Holmes didn't return that night, or the next morning for that matter, and I was beginning to worry. Surely he wouldn't finish the case without me.

As I was making excuses for why Holmes would not finish the case alone the doorbell rang.

Opening it I found a bobby who closely who resembled a rodent and introduced himself as Inspector Lestrade. He inquired if Holmes was here and when I answered to the negative, he asked for me to give him a note. I agreed and he handed me an envelope, bowed, and took his leave

I placed the note on the table in the parlor and then sat down to a book that I had been reading the night before. After a bit I realized I was spending more time staring at the table than at my book. Getting up and leaving the room seemed like the best way to change my focus from the note but I kept thinking of that damn letter. I wanted to know what its contents were more that anything.

Making my way back to the parlor I stared at it trying, to decide what to do. Surely Holmes wouldn't mind if I peeked at what the officer had written; especially since it had to do something with the case that I was also working on. Hadn't he said that I may have just found the missing clue? Although I did not agree with his conclusion, which was still in my mind most definitely wrong, it was still a clue of sorts and perhaps this letter contained more. Besides I couldn't help but hope the letter proved Holmes' theory wrong.

Making up my mind I went to the kitchen made myself some tea. I carried it to the parlor and, after making sure that the coast was clear, I snatched up the envelope. Pouring out the steaming liquid, I held the envelope over the cup, letting the warm moisture work its magic on the glue holding it closed. I knew this would work and leave little if any trace of tampering as I had watched Holmes do it many times.

Finally the envelope open and I was able to pull out the piece of paper.

"Mikael, that wouldn't happen to be my letter you are opening would it?"

Holmes had entered quietly and caught me in the act. "Um, well." I stammered. He walked over and snatched both paper and envelope out of my hands.

"I would appreciate it if you left things addressed to me alone."

"I… I…um…" stammering I realized I had nothing to say. I waited him to read the note before I spoke again. "So did you find Danston?"

"I have not yet retrieved the boy but thanks to your information about Devon Street, I now have the exact address that he is at. There is little time left to loose so he must be retrieved tonight. I have gleaned some information on his captors and they just may make good on the threat you over heard."

My stomach lurched at the thought of that poor boy in the hands of such people.

Holmes moved towards the door adding, "There is nothing to be done for it in the daylight we will join with the police later and make or move under the cover of darkness. For nowI am in need of supper as I have not taken a meal all day."

The clock revealed it to be near supper time and I discovered that I could do with a meal myself, so I followed Holmes example went to tidy up for supper.

We arrived at the table before the elder Holmes brother.

After seating himself he addressed the detective, "Was it a productive day?"

"Very satisfactory."

"So it will be tonight then." More a fact then a question, though how he knew was beyond me.

"Tonight."

"You have provided for sufficient backup I take it."

"The local constabulary will be there as well as Mikael though not so much for back up as to watch the boy."

This I couldn't fight, as I knew I wouldn't be much help in a fight or with a gun. Besides at least I was going.

Mycroft, however, still didn't seem to be so sure of my involvement in the case. He raised his eyebrows at Holmes who merely stared straight back. Whatever was said in the silence between the brothers must have been enough for all he did was shrug and apply himself to his food.

Once dinner was finished I dressed, grabbed my cap and met Homes down stairs. As we made our way out onto the street he told me to keep my cap pulled down. "Why?" I asked.

"Well Inspector Lestrade was not too please when I informed him you would be coming and the more like boy you look the better. I also suggest you don't talk much."

"So what, he won't give us back up if he's conscience of a girl being there?" Holmes didn't answer but he gave me a look that said I was very close to the truth. Spending much of my youth as a street boy still made it difficult for me to accept my position as a fragile lady in society. One of these days men will have to realize that women are capable of nearly everything a man is.

We met Inspector Lestrade a block from our destination of Devon street. He and the men accompanying him were all dressed in simple clothes similar to that which I was wearing. The Inspector glanced my direction and Holmes introduced me. "Inspector this is my assistant Mikael I mentioned earlier." We exchanged quick nods and he turned away, ignoring me. If it wasn't for the gravity of the situation I would have laughed at the officer's oblivion to my gender.

Once we got closer, Lestrade sent his men ahead telling them to find a hiding place on the other side of the house. We gave them a moment to get into position before the three of us found hiding places of our own.

Looking in through the windows we saw several men playing poker around a table littered with empty bottles, but no sign of the boy. There was a tree a short ways from the house. At a nod from Holmes I was up the tree looking into a small room that still had the light on.

Maneuvering around on my branch I saw him. Danston was sitting on a chair, blind folded with his hands tied together. There was know way that I could get to the window from where I was at, so I shimmed down and told Holmes what I had seen.

"He's in there, but the tree is too far away to get to him from out here." I whispered.

"You are sure there was no one in the room with him?"

"Positive."

Holmes pulled out his revolver and tried to hand it to me. "Do you know how to use this?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Then I want you to stay back out of the way at first then run upstairs to retrieve him."

The men crept their way around to the door, in an instant Holmes and Lestrade jumped forward and kicked in the door. I heard similar noises coming from the back door as the other police officers made an entrance of there own. They burst forward, guns drawn, I heard shots fired from both sides before I ran through the door and headed for the stairs. One of the kidnappers that had managed to slip out during the confusion in the other room saw where I was headed and lunged, grabbing my foot causing me to land hard on the stairs. I quickly rolled onto my back and put my heel to his nose as hard as I could, he released my foot and lapsed into unconsciousness. I jumped to my feet and made my way up to find Danston, a stray bullet whizzing pat my ear on my way up.

I found the room he was located in furthest from the stairs still sitting on his bed, but now he was turning his head from side to side trying to find out what was going on. I shut and locked the door behind me as I entered.

Walking over to him I reached out to remove the blind fold from his eyes but he pulled away. I don't know which of us was trembling worse.

"It's Okay Danston my name is Mikael, your mother sent me, I'm going to take you home but you have to let me remove this." He held still so that I could take it off of him. He blinked in the light trying to focus on me.

"Hey buddy, we're going to wait here for a moment." I attempted to remove his other bonds but the knot was tight and I was still shaking. I really wished that I had a knife or something to cut off the ropes around his wrist.

It was only a moment later when a knock sounded on the door, Holmes' voice following it. "Mikael, are you in there?"

"Yes Holmes we are." I answered opening it for him. He was looking a little battered, he had a cut on his forehead that suggested that a bullet had come to close for comfort.

He nodded in Danston's direction, "Is he alright?"

"Yes but we could use something to cut off the ropes." He pulled out a pocket knife and severed the ropes, then removed his coat to wrap around the boys shoulders. He turned to walk downstairs, I grabbed up Danston and followed.

At the base of the stairs the kidnappers where sitting on the floor handcuffed, looking shocked and angry that they had been caught. The man who had grabbed my leg was splattered in blood and still unconscious. I tried to rush Danston past these men, there was no reason for him to see them anymore, but one face among the captured made me stop in my tracks.

It was Raymond Banks.

I began shaking in rage, "You... I... how could you?! He's your brother! And you do this?! Aaughh!" Holmes walked over and took my arm, pulling me away from Raymond. He had to drag me all the way into the next room. Every fiber of my being wanted to rip that man's head off; I was picturing lots of pain. Danston followed closely behind us wanting to get as far away from those men as possible.

Holmes pushed me back into a chair. "Get control of yourself Mikael!" he yelled.

"But his own brother!" I drew my breath in sharply, "I let that man kiss me earlier."

Holmes placed his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. They were like cold steel, hard and unwavering. "Mikael, calm down! Focus on the task at hand."

I really couldn't think of what the task was, we had already found the boy. Seeing Danston standing behind him I remembered. _The boy, I was suppose to watch him_.

"Right… Danston, sorry Holmes." He shook his head and left the room.

Danston and I occupied ourselves with various games while the criminals were loaded into a jail cart and taken away; we had taken the deck of cards they had been using. He won most of the games as my mind was occupied with both hateful thoughts and confusion. Hatful thoughts towards Holmes for being right, for Raymond for deceiving me, and even more for myself for following fancy rather than reason.

It didn't take long for the police to load the men off to jail. Danston, Holmes, Lestrade, and I followed in a carriage behind them back to the station.

When we walked into the front doors of the station, the Banks' were pacing, waiting for their son. As the youngest son ran and jumped into his mothers arms, Holmes approached them with the sad news of the eldest.

When they heard of their son's sins their reaction was heartbreaking but not surprising. Mr. Banks had flames in his eyes and I heard him requested that 'the law be used to its fullest extent'. Mrs. Banks cried and held the youngest tighter and insisted that it was some mistake.

Lestrade seeing the family's state walked over and asked if they might interview the boy so as to find out what had really happened. The family agreed and Danston pointed at me saying he wanted me to be the one asking the questions. All eyes turned towards me and I nodded my assent.

We took Danston into Lestrade's office since Raymond had already been situated in the interrogation room to await his questioning.

I hesitated at the door. "Holmes I don't know how to this."

"You simply ask questions Mikael, you do that enough at home to know how the process works."

"But these questions are different. This is not why two chemicals can't go together this is about terrible and frightening things that were done to this child."

Inspector Lestrade, who was standing behind Holmes, looked at me funny and grabbed Holmes' arm pulling him aside. Realizing this was the first time Lestrade had heard me talk I leaned against the wall to listen to the argument about to take place. I had never been good at changing my voice and the young boy emitting my feminine voice was always a shock to the unknowing men around me.

"Mikael is a girl!" came Lestrade's angry voice first quickly followed for Holmes' sarcastic one.

"A fact that I am aware of Inspector"

"There is no place in police work for women. This is one thing that I thought we agreed upon."

Holmes glared at the Inspector, a look that would make me cringe. "As there has never been a situation in which this subject has been present before I do not see how we could have ever agreed on such a thing. Mikael had proven she is worthy to be a part of this case."

Lestrade snorted at this, obviously not seeing any point where my involvement had been necessary for the case. Holmes saw the same thing and took the inspector down from his perch. "In fact if it where not for the girl young Mr. Banks would more than likely not be here; it was the information that she gathered on her own and reported to me that made a happy ending on this case possible. Besides the boy specifically asked for her to do the interview, I don't believe you want to loose the first hand information that could be the only way of you getting a conviction of all these criminals."

This last bit of information made Lestrade stop and think. Grudgingly, Lestrade consented and both men turned their attention to me. I stood up straight, the fun was over and now it was time to get back to the daunting task at hand. After a quick coaching of what to say the two men aimed me at the door. I walked in first with Holmes right behind me. He wasn't to say anything just stand against the wall to keep track of what was said.

_Okay Mikael -_I said to myself-_ no reason to be nervous it's just your first interview in a high profile case. Oh this is not good._ Taking a deep breath I tried to calm myself. I had instructions all I had to do was ask the questions. _Just remember give him time and work backwards no reason to upset him by starting with his brother._

I sat down across from Danston and smiled what I hoped was a reassuring smile. He gave a little smile back and I started.

"Danston I just need to ask you a few questions. It's very important that you answer them and you can take as much time as you need to do it. Now are you ready?"

He nodded and I began the questions.

"How many men did you see in the house you were at?"

"Three."

"Had you ever seen any of the men before you went there?"

"No."

Now for the harder questions.

"Why did they tie you up?"

He let out a sigh as he answered, "I tried to run away I didn't like them at all. I almost made it to the front door but one of them saw me. He got really mad and took me back upstairs. He said that I had to stay so he tied my hand together so I couldn't open the door."

"Did you ever hear any of them talking?"

"Yes, a couple times."

"And what kinds of things did they talk about?"

"They talked a lot about money and how they were going to get some from my father. They said there boss wanted it."

"Did they ever say the name of their boss"

"No."

I looked up at Holmes and he nodded at me. Now for the part I really didn't want to hear.

"How did those men get you?"

"My brother took me to them?"

"What do you mean did he take you to the house?"

"No we met them. I was headed home from my friends house and brother found me. We went for a walk in the park to the part with all the trees. He said that he had a problem and only I could help him. Then the men showed up and he said I had to go with them."

"Did your brother say anything to the men?"

"he asked them for a letter so he could get something done fast. He said he would come for me soon that I would be there long, but he never came and I got scared so I tried to go find him but they wouldn't let me."

At this point he started to cry the questioning was done and we had got what was needed. It was everything I had not to start crying also. But I knew that acting like a girl was the last thing I needed to di in front of the inspector. We sent Mrs. Banks in to comfort her youngest son and turned to the task of talking with the elder son. Raymond had voluntarily placed his brother in the hands of some bad men. As far as I was concerned he was the real criminal in all this.

Holmes and Inspector Lestrade headed straight for the room where Raymond was being held. Holmes stopped before entering and turned to me.

"Mikael, I think it would be best if you stayed out here." Then he walked in and closed the door behind him.

I sat out in the hall wondering what was going on. I hoped that Holmes was beating everything out of him.

After a rather short period of time the two men came walking out.

I jumped to my feet, "Well? What happened?"

The inspector walked right past me not answering. I was really starting to not like him.

Holmes, however, did answer me, "We are sending him to America."

"What?!"

"In exchange for information. He will disclose who the crime boss behind this whole operation to who he owes the money after I have personally placed him on the boat."

"So we are just letting him go?" I asked rather in indignantly.

"In a way yes. Although, he is, in essence, being exiled from his family and country. Some would consider that punishment enough for his crimes. Besides it will allow us to track and arrest a much bigger threat to society."

"So when do we," the look I got from Holmes here made me pause, "um, you leave to do this."

"Almost this instant. Lestrade has left to make the arrangements and then we will be off. I will ask that you stay here in case there are any questions that we need to answer for the good police when I return."

I was getting coffee when Holmes and the Inspector marched to the front door with Raymond. I left my cup at the table and hurried to catch up. I may not be able to go with but I was planning on watching them leave.

I was right behind them when they stepped outside so I stopped at the door way figuring this was as far as I needed to go.

Then all hell broke loose on the sidewalk. I gun shot went off from somewhere and I ducked to the ground. I saw Raymond fall, a bullet had made its mark in his head. Officers hid behind the carriage but Holmes had been at the end of the line. He moved to run for cover but then a second shot went off and he was on the ground.

"Holmes!" I heard myself scream. I went to run out to him but another officer who had been in the doorway with me grabbed me and kept me on the ground. I watched in horror as Holmes lay on the ground not moving. I couldn't see where he had been shot. _Oh god Holmes, _I thought, _please don't be dead._


	8. Aftermath

**A/N: **ok it is really short but it is something.

**Chapter Eight: Aftermath**

Pandemonium broke out on the walk. I heard the Inspector yelling to his men. "The shots came from the other building, get in there and take him down."

The officers outside pulled their side arms and took off running. A couple also came from in the station brandishing large shot guns and determined faces.

The movement around me brought me out of my stupor. I didn't know if Holmes was alive or not but I knew I needed to be at his side. "Let me go!" I yelled at the officer holding me down.

"It's not safe miss." He said back, struggling to keep a hold of me. It figured that I would be next to one of the few officers who knew that I was a girl. Unfortunately for him, I did not fight like a girl. I squirmed to get free and when that didn't work I did the only thing I knew would get me free, I threw my elbow back into his stomach, knocking the wind from him and causing him to release his hold on me.

I ran to Holmes and dropped to my knees at his side. His coat was covered in blood and his face was ghostly white.

He opened his eyes and looked at me, "It's all right Mikael. Just a shoulder wound, I'll live."

I let out a sigh of relief, feeling at least some of the dread go away. He tried to sit up, grimaced and laid back down breathing heavily. I pulled out my handkerchief and pressed it onto the wound. Holmes closed his eyes and his breath caught as I applied pressure.

Lestrade grabbed a couple of officers who were making their way outside "You two there, Come over here and give me a hand." They rushed over and helped to get Holmes off the ground.

"We need to get him to Charring cross." I heard Lestrade say, "Watson will fix him up." I stayed sitting on the ground as they moved Holmes to the carriage. Looking to my left I saw the other casualty of the day. Raymond lay dead three feet from me. The ground was covered in him and Holmes blood as well as a large splattering of what I soon discovered to be brain matter. I felt my stomach turn when I realized I could smell the death, I retched in front of God and half of Scotland Yard. Looking at my blood soaked hands caused me to retch a second time. By now, Lestrade had put Holmes in the carriage and he came for me. I was crawling away, trying to get the world to stop spinning when I heard him say that I should get in the carriage with Holmes now if I was going to go. I nodded and shakily stood up.

They had Holmes laying on the seat so I sat on the ground and kept pressure on his shoulder. It felt like forever before we got to the hospital. Someone must have ridden ahead because Watson was standing outside waiting for us when we arrived.

I stepped out of the carriage to be met by a worried Watson. "Miss Garrison, what happened. All I know is some officer comes running into the hospital saying that you are on your way and Holmes has been shot where is he? What happened?"

"He's in the carriage." I answered.

Watson rushed over to help the officer pull his friend out and onto a stretcher. They carried him inside and into a small room. I waited out in the hall knowing it would be best to leave Holmes to his friend's care.

After a while Watson come out to get me. "He is all patched up and resting for now. You can go see him if you would like just be quiet." I went in to the room and sat in the chair by the bed. He was sleeping and had a large bandage on his shoulder that just showed from the edge of the blanket. I know I should have been embarrassed as this meant he had no shirt on but I was just relieved to see he was all right. Keeping with the good doctor's orders to stay quiet I rested my head against the back of the chair and fell asleep.

I awoke a bit later to see Holmes watching me with a smirk on his face. "Enjoy your little nap Mikael?" He asked.

"I could ask the same of you Holmes." I retorted with a yawn.

"Well now that you are awake why don't you go find my things so we can get out of here. I am sure the good inspector needs help finding whoever was behind the shooting."

I hesitated not so sure that leaving was in the best interest of the patient but I was saved from having to refute this by the entrance of Watson.

"My dear Holmes as keen as you are for leaving this place I think you will find that I am keener to keep you here."

Holmes huffed and was about to tell the doctor what he thought of that but he was cut off.

"Now, now my friend you know the drill, just a couple of days here to be sure that no infection develops and to remind all the hospital staff of your inability to be a good patient."

Holmes merely scowled at his friend knowing that there was no use in fighting. In watching the interchange I was struck by the thought that if Holmes refused Watson would probably tie him to the bed.

Watson turned to me interrupting my musings with a stricture of my own.

"And you young lady should really think of returning home. By the look of you, you are also in need of some rest and if I know Holmes and his cases at all then you have been away from home for several days. Mrs. Hudson is probably about to send the hounds out after you." I grimaced myself at his advise causing him to burst out laughing. "The look of you two, ha, not pleased with either of the prospects."

I turned to Holmes, "How about next time I get shot and you go home to face my aunt."

"Agreed." Came the reply causing renewed laughter from Watson.

As I headed out to find a hansom that would take me home I had a return of my earlier musings. Only this time my aunt was tying me to the bed to ensure that I never left her sight.


	9. The Attack

**A/N: **Ta-da!!! New chapter

**Chapter Nine: The Attack**

Holmes came home a few days later as promised by Watson. He seemed relieved to be home and even took my aunts glares and begrudging service in stride. She was still not happy with him for taking me out on the case with him. Upon my return she had been first ecstatic to see me then very upset with my going. Now she was content to put the blame on Holmes.

Every other day Watson would come over to check on his patient. My aunt would allow me a respite from my chores to serve them tea and then visit for a while. Apparently her displeasure with Holmes did not extend to "Dear Dr. Watson" as she called him. I think she was hoping that he would be a good influence and make me stop wanting to work with Holmes. Unfortunately, he and Holmes spent much of the time regaling me with previous cases and the times that Watson was left to patch up Holmes. This was followed by Watson complaining that his instructions for the healing process were always ignored and then banter between the two friends.

Things started to go down hill after about two weeks. Holmes started getting surly as time got closer to Watson allowing him to take off the sling and he was upset at not being able to go after information on the shooter himself. Although Wiggins and his gang were trying to find something for him they were not meeting with much success.

One nice afternoon my aunt decided that I could go to the market for her. After spending the morning sewing anything and everything that my aunt could find and mending to her standards I was more than ready for some fresh air.

I hadn't been out for very long when I ran into Wiggins. I made my way up to him. "Hello Wiggins, what is the game today?"

"Oh hello miss. I was just trying to get something for Mr. Holmes." He made a face that told me it wasn't going as well as he would like. He got real quiet for a second and then looked up at me smiling. "Perhaps you could help me a bit?"

I got excited at the possibility of some evidence gathering as I had been inactive on case work since the discovery of Danston. "What can I do?"

"Well you see," he started, "I can't keep as good of tabs on him as I would normally because he keeps going into shops that are of a higher quality then I am use to going in, and well I'm not exactly a welcome sight in all of them. But you..."

"I am dressed for a day at the market and can easily gain access into most of the shops." I finished catching on to the plan.

"Right-o miss."

"So who is the guy?"

He nodded at a man walking towards a small bakery. The man was dressed decently and looked of a higher class than the men that Wiggins normally tailed for Holmes. There was no way Wiggins could go hang around in there without drawing attention to his self. I had already gathered a few of the things I had been sent out for so this was an easy shop for me to go into. It would simply look as though I was taking a short break from my shopping.

"Well I'll go in and you keep lookout." He nodded his assent and I went in and casually ordered a small pastry.

Once I had paid for it I sat down at a table not too far from the man and slowly started to pick at my treat. I didn't know for how long I was going to need it to last so I figured the slower the better.

The man only sat there for a few minutes before another man came in and joined him. Right behind this second man a young mother and her nosy children came in and took a seat behind me. As the two men talked I tried to hear what they were saying but it was no use with the racket going on at the other table.

After ten minutes or so the two men got up and left splitting up as they left. I quickly swallowed down the rest of my food and made my way outside.

Wiggins ran up to me, "Well what did they say?"

I shrugged, "I'm not sure. I had a noisy child behind me and couldn't make out a word they said. I certainly didn't look like just a common meeting though."

"Well you follow the new guy I'm going after the first guy again." He said.

"Ok, see you at Baker Street later." And we both went off after out prospective tails.

I followed my guy in and out of several shops and waited outside window shopping when he went into someplace that I couldn't follow without attracting attention. Several of the places I had a legitimate reason for going into so it was really an easy tail. Finally it was getting late, my basket was nearly full and I needed to return home. I gave up my guy who had yielded absolutely no more information.

I returned to 221 as dusk was falling and was set upon by my aunt when I went into the kitchen to deposit my purchases.

"What took you so long?"

I focused on putting things carefully on the pantry shelf. "I stopped to have a scone at the bakery." I said casually.

She didn't buy it, "A scone that took you three hours to eat? What were you really doing?"

I tried to put her off one more time, "Well I saw Wiggins so I stopped to talk to him for a bit. I guess I lost track of the time. Which he should be over soon so we should pull out some cookies for him." I was hoping that the idea of needed to feed the always hungry young boy would help to change the subject but I had no such luck.

She raised a brow at me, "Wiggins huh, Mikael were you out doing work for Mr. Holmes?"

I was caught, "Well He didn't put me up to it or anything. Wiggins couldn't follow this guy into any of the shops so I went into the bakery to listen in on a meeting that was going on between two guys and when I couldn't hear anything Wiggins and I decided to split up so we could each follow a guy and see if we could get any information about the shooting." I knew I had went a little to far when her face turned white at my last words. She wasn't comfortable with the idea that I had been involved in the case that had got Holmes shot.

"Mikael," she breathed, "Mikael you must not get involved in this. What if that man had been the shooter and he had seen you."

"Auntie, I was in a public place nothing would have happened and I stopped before dark. I was perfectly safe." I tried to reassure her.

"You and Mr. Holmes were at the police station when you two were shot at there is no such thing as being perfectly safe no matter where you are. I don't want you working on anything with him again."

I started to protest but was cut off.

"No there will be no arguing on the matter. Your father sent you over her to get you out of trouble and to train you how to be a proper lady. I wont have you running off and getting killed just because Mr. Holmes wants information. I want you to promise me you will stop working with Mr. Holmes."

"What! But auntie…" I stammered.

"No please, do this for me. Promise me."

I didn't know what to do. The last thing I wanted was to estrange my aunt. "Okay, I promise." I assented reluctantly.

"That means no science experiments, no detective work, not even any of those books he gave to you. It all stops understand? You will do nothing other than what you were sent over here for."

"Yes Auntie." I answered looking at the floor.

"Now go and clean up and help me with dinner."

That night after dinner I returned all of the books Holmes had given me. I walked into the sitting room with an arm load of books causing Holmes to look up from his pipe.

"Wiggins was here earlier and said that you had helped him in tailing a suspect today. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"There was nothing to report. I was unable to hear any of the conversation and the man did nothing to cause any suspicion when I followed him."

He took a puff off the pipe, "Well now that you have a face or two maybe you can assist Wiggins further tomorrow?" He prompted.

"No Holmes I can't."

He gave me a sideways glance, "Perhaps the next day then."

"No Holmes not the next day either." I looked him right in the eye as I set the books on the table. "And I won't be needing these anymore either."

He got the hint and took a couple more puffs on his pipe.

"Would you like anything while I'm up here?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Then good night Mr. Holmes."

"Good night Miss Garrison."

Things were drastically different after that. If I went out it was with my aunt. When Watson came over I served the tea and then went back to my duties.

There were a few times at first when Holmes would go to show me something and stop himself. I was glad he did because although I couldn't do anything that didn't mean I wasn't interested.

For the most part my aunt made sure that I stayed out of Holmes' way and I got very little time in the upstairs part of the house.

After about a month of this my aunt decided to leave me home while she went out for the day. She left me with a list of things to do including dusting the upstairs sitting room. I did a few of the other chores then made my way upstairs. Holmes was bent over his desk working on something that seemed to take up his full attention. I let out at sigh and went to work on the other side of the room.

Soon there was no helping it I had run out of places to clean on that side of the room. I slowly made my way over to where Holmes was cleaning as I went. I was burning with curiosity on what he was doing but determined not to break my promise. Wiggins and his gang had been coming and going with alarming frequency and Holmes was always busy. Eventually, I was cleaning the bookshelf just to the right of the desk.

Once there I couldn't help but look at what he was doing. He was reading a letter that appeared to come from his brother. After a moment I recognized the patterns of a cipher. These were some of the most interesting if not the hardest things that I had practiced with Holmes. It was also one of my favorites. I loved patterns and enjoyed the struggle of finding the correct pattern that would make the symbols divulge their secrets. As I looked over his shoulder I kept the duster moving so that if my aunt were to return home I would still be cleaning. However, with all the dust I had already collected throughout the room, it soon started to refill the air causing both Holmes and myself to start sneezing.

"Damnit Mikael" he yelled using my first name for the first time since I had returned the books. "How do you expect me to concentrate on this with you flitting around the room sighing and stirring up clouds of dust?"

I glared at him, "I was just trying to see what you were doing. And I was not flitting"

"Then just ask." He fired back, "Don't use paltry tricks or sneak glances over my shoulder."

"I can't Holmes and you know that. I made a promise to my aunt and I intend to keep it."

"If you made a promise to Mrs. Hudson then you should not be wondering what I am doing. Go back to your housewife lessons and leave me alone."

I was shocked as his words, "Housewife lessons! What on earth are you talking about? I am trying to become the proper young lady that my father sent me over here to be."

"The father who barely paid you any mind until you were nearing a marriageable age? Think about it Mikael unless the lessons have undone everything I worked to instill in you. What is it that a proper young lady does? Become a housewife. What is it that you have been learning that is among the things done by all housewives? Cooking, cleaning, sewing and having absolutely nothing in their pretty little heads. All of which you have been mastering wonderfully these last few weeks. Much faster and more efficient I must say then when you were learning the art of reason and deduction, so I think you have found your true calling."

I just stared at him with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't believe that he would use something I told him in confidence against me.

He took my silence in another light. "Point in case. Now, finish your cleaning while I am out of the house." With that he grabbed his overcoat and stormed out of the room.

After he left, I flung the feather duster at the door. Throwing myself down in the nearest chair I fumed. _How dare he say that to me, I was just doing what my aunt had asked of me._ I was terrified at the thought that he would bee right. _Is that all it is? Was I sent over here so that I would be able to make some man a proper wife?_ Although I knew I would have to get married at some point I never really thought of it as something I would be sent off to train for. There was a time when I fanaticized about some man I tried to pick pocket as falling in love with me and saving me from my crimes.

Once I had calmed a bit I went down stairs to wait for my aunt. I needed to find out if that was really why my father had sent me over here. When I made it to the bottom a knock sounded at the door. I answered it to find a delivery boy there with a box with no address.

"Here you are miss." He said handing it over. I took it and turned to put it on the table near the door.

"Thank you. If you wait just one moment I'll go get you a…" I trailed of because the boy was gone. _That was unusual. They normally wait for a token._

I turned to walk towards the kitchen but the box caught my eye. I couldn't help but wonder what it was for. I supposed it was for Holmes and the no address was because it was something highly secret. It was also heavy which was promising as for as interesting content. Just a plain box wrapped in twine to hold it close, rather simple really.

_If I just carefully undo the knot I can open it see what's inside then seal it back up no one the wiser. _I thought.

I quickly went to work on the knot, pausing right when I had finally got it loosened. I could hear a faint ticking sound. I knew there was no way I was hearing the upstairs clock. I leaned in closer to the box and the tick grew a little louder.

_Oh my God! There was a bomb inside the box._

The realization hit me like a slap in the face and I felt a cold sweat wash over me. I picked up the box prepared to throw it outside but stopped. I didn't want to blow up some innocent passer.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." I heard my self saying over and over.

I ran around in circles with the box in my hands trying to figure out what to do. Finally I couldn't take it any longer; I put the box on the floor and ran into my room just to the right of the front entrance. Slamming my door, I dove under my bed just as the explosion went off. I think I heard myself scream as the door was blown open. I do know that I did my most lady-like thing since coming to London; I fainted.


	10. After the Boom

**Chapter Ten: After the Boom**

Holmes was walking home with a lot on his mind. He felt disconcerted with his fight with Mikael. She was missing the chase and he was missing her company. In many ways she had replaced Watson. He had always been the one who sat and listened to Holmes' ideas and helped him in difficult situations. Since his marriage Holmes' life had been devoid of such companionship. That was until Mikael had arrived. Although Holmes normally despised women and saw them as the weaker of the sex for a reason, he had been surprised to find a quick mind in this strange young woman with a masculine name. When Mrs. Hudson had decided that she needed to focus on becoming a proper young lady it had aggravated him. She was being prepared for a life of complacency when she had a mind that needed much more. As much as he hated to admit it he had enjoyed training her and fine tuning her mind. It had been a challenge for both of them and he was surprised how she always rose to the occasion.

However, there was really no way around the current situation. He couldn't very well go talk to Mrs. Hudson about it and Mikael either could not or would not go against her family's wishes.

He was almost back to his apartment when an explosion sounded. He took off at a run to find the cause and stopped dead when he saw his neighbors running out to start a bucket line for 221B. There were not a lot of flames but there was plenty of smoke pouring out of the front door. Holmes grabbed the closest person.

"Where is the girl? Did a young girl come running out before the explosion?"

"What? No Mr. Holmes I didn't see the girl. Didn't she go out with her aunt this morning?" The man asked back.

Holmes rushed forward into the house. He could tell that the bomb was small but effective, obviously meant to take out a single target. The front entrance to the house was in shambles with a few flames licking around the door.

Holmes was relieved at first to not see her among the wreckage of the entrance.

"Mikael." He called out but got no response. He headed back towards the kitchen but still couldn't find her. Making his way back to the front he noticed that the door to Mikael's room was hanging open by one of the hinges. _That door was open when I left._ He moved into the room and spotted her foot from under the bed.

"Mikael!" he yelled running to the bed. He reached out and pulled her out from under the bed. As he pulled she stirred. "Holmes?"

"Yes Mikael it's me. Can you walk?"

"Holmes," she said again, "the box."

"What box?" He asked, helping her to her feet.

She gave him a dazed look, "There was a boy, then a box and then boom" was all she could get out before she collapsed again. Holmes caught her and picked her up awkwardly.

As he came out the remnants of the front door, the few flames put out by the bucket line, a shriek was heard from down the walk way.

Mrs. Hudson came running up, her small basket of groceries forgotten on the pavement. Holmes laid Mikael down on the ground and Mrs. Hudson shoved her shawl under her nieces head.

She turned on Holmes, "What happened to her? I knew that one of these days your little science experiments were going to destroy my house."

Holmes took a step back at the fury coming from his little landlady and housekeeper. "Mrs. Hudson you niece will be fine. I do believe that she has only fainted and will come to in just a moment. Also, this is not the result of my experiments, from what I understand a box was delivered that turned out to be a bomb."

"A bomb…" the lady squeaked out. Just then Mikael stirred again.

"Ow my head." She said trying to pull herself up onto her elbows. "Help me sit up please." Her aunt hesitantly helped her to sit up asking her if she needed anything.

Now the he knew she was alright, Holmes went to survey the damage to the property. The entrance was in shambles and the front door completely gone. What use to be a table next to the door was now chunks of wood and splinters. The wall at this point was charred black, he guessed this was were the bomb had been when it went off. He examined the floor carefully, picking up stray bits of metal he found a few burnt pieces of the box as well but they were in a state beyond that which would help him identify where it was from. Standing in the middle of the entrance he turned in a circle taking in all the areas affected trying to determine the size of the blast. Mikael's door had been blown almost completely off its hinges and had a few scorch marks, and the bottom two stairs had been destroyed, as they were only feet from the table.

The women would have to have someplace to go, as they couldn't stay here until it was fixed. Besides the damage the house smelled terrible. The safest place to send them he knew would be his brother Mycroft's. Mrs. Hudson he knew would not like the situation but Mikael would, he was sure, help to convince her aunt.

Holmes jumped over the bottom stairs and headed up to his sitting room two write two notes to send ahead of the women to his brother's house and to his club. Once that was finished he headed back outside to send the notes and to try to convince Mrs. Hudson to agree to his plan. Outside he found Mikael and her aunt heading towards the door.

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson, I am taking the liberty of sending a note off to my brother asking that we all impose upon his hospitality until the damages can be repaired."

"Surely Mr. Holmes I do not have to leave my house."

"I assure you, it is necessary."

Mrs. Hudson again tried to protest but Holmes cut her off. "Madam, you have no front door. Now I suggest that you and your niece go inside and pack a few things to take with you for a few days stay. I am not certain how long it will take to put everything back into order."

The lady still seemed unconvinced but at some slight prodding from her niece she agreed and they went inside to see the damages and collect their things.

As soon as the ladies were sent on their way and the neighbors dispersed of, Holmes entered the house once more. He was shaken at these events. Someone had tried to kill him and not for the first time in a rather short period of time. He had a distinct feeling that it was the same people who had been responsible for the shooting at Scotland Yard. He had not been involved in anything as intriguing since the Banks' kidnapping. That Mikael had nearly been the victim was also on his mind. Thought Mrs. Hudson tried to keep her out of all this she still got in the way a bomb delivered to his address. How she had figured out it was a bomb and removed herself from harm he had no idea; he was just thankful that she had. After filling an over night bag of his own, grabbed some envelopes and headed down the stairs, jumping the gap at the bottom. Shaking his head, he cleared it of the thoughts and fears he had allowed himself to mull over and got down to business. There was plenty of debris around the front foyer and he began going through it methodically, filling the envelopes with bits to be examined closer.

**A/N: **another short chapter. Sorry the postings are so spread out I just wasn't happy with this one and had to redo it. Needed the transition chapter and really wanted to get a bit more of Holmes in there. Hmmm, we might see more parts following the great detective POV not sure yet.

Im at a bit of a block now and classes are starting back up at the university but im going to try to keep writing and posting. Also, this chapter title sucks any suggestions would be welcome.


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